χορεύω
by Baliansword
Summary: Hephaestion does not understand Alexander's desire for Bagoas, or a wife. However, in his greatest enemies he may find his newest strength and in such he may discover that Alexander has not fallen out of love with him at all, as he's been thinking.
1. Prologue

**Title:** χορεύω (Dance)

**Author: **Baliansword

**Chapter:** 1, "Prologue"

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Summary:** Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone that supports me. Sorry that it has been so long since I have posted anything!

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_Hephaestion's PoV_

I have been with him since the beginning. I remember when we first met, so long ago. He was a young brat, chasing a few other boys around with a wooden sword, and I was meek and shy, sickly even in comparison to him. It had taken courage to leave my father's side while he spoke with Philip in secret rooms that could only be found in secret halls. I'd taken the steps to free myself though, only for a moment I knew, but to me that was an accomplishment. I tried to appear strong, and I sat down where I could see a group of children. Leaning against the pillar I watched boys that I did not know, and then I saw someone else. He was the only golden haired boy there, and this is how I placed a name to a face never before seen. He was Alexander, the prince, but to me he was just another boy. They seemed hesitant in playing with him, and I did not know if it was because he was skilled, or if they feared something else. Either way I watched, until one of the boys glanced over and made eye contact with me. Well, no sooner had he seen me were they approaching, the entire group. Each possessed a different character from the beginning, but I was only interested in one.

It was horrible, that first meeting. Sometimes I do not think that Alexander remembers is now, but I do. I remember it all. Cassander was the first to harass me, which was not surprising to me. He looked like the antagonist of the group, as if he wanted attention that he could not get otherwise. He asked me who I was, and things of the like, but with a hint of anger. It was then that he was telling me to watch my place and as meek as I was, I was not afraid of him for some reason. It was a ruse, his intentional demeanor gave way to me that he was not as tough as he believed. Each had a turn though, asking something of me, and some even mocking –all save for one. Alexander did not speak to me, not on this first meeting, which is perhaps why he seems to have left it out of his memory. He did not get a chance to speak, for my father called my name and I stood quickly, and I walked away with a hesitation I should not have felt.

That was the beginning. We met again on the first day I was to attend my school lessons. My father had arranged something with Philip, which to this day I am unsure of, and I was part of the deal. For some trade of my father's I was able to be taught under Aristotle, the wise man that all had been speaking of. It was true that I was not noble. My father had been a soldier, a general for a short period of time, but this did not merit great wealth. In truth we were a few rungs above being just as poor as everyone else. All of the money belonged to Philip, no matter what airs others put on. In turn I knew that one day it would belong to Alexander and in such a time I knew that I would either be dead or serving in the phalanxes. There was nothing to be ashamed of in it. It suited my father, and many others, but it was not what I wanted to do. I wanted to be a scholar, and so when my father told me that I could study under Aristotle I immediately threw my arms around him. My father assured me that within a year Aristotle would be teaching us, so until then I would have to face a Macedonian scholar. It would do. I could wait for Aristotle. Facing a new group of boys, well, that would be my trouble. I managed though. At first I was nothing at all, I was an average learner, and when it came to combat I was even worse. It was embarrassing really, because I was always paired with Alexander. I offered to be partners with another so that he could face better opponents. He refused.

It seemed that we were friends after a few weeks. He still shared better bonds with the others, but unlike the rest he would speak to me. One day he even asked if I would join him for lunch. I was unsure of what to expect, or even of what to say. I had never eaten in a fancy palace, and I did not want to. He may have known the reason for my hesitation, because we wound up under a tree with a basket of very generic foods. Yet just as I feared something came between us. My father told me three days later that we would be going to Athens. I was born in Athens, and my mother had told me tales of what was to be found there, and for the longest time I had yearned to travel there. It was the worst time though. My father made decisions in the house though, so hence we went, and I left Alexander behind. I missed him more than I thought I would.

When I came back I was different. I knew things that Athenian scholars could teach me without hesitation. Macedonian scholars were nothing compared to these men, and even a woman surprisingly, and I thanked the gods that the trip had turned out for something. I even managed to become a bit better at combat skills. I was sure that it would not matter though. I would return to Pella wiser, but no stronger. Macedonian boys are soldiers by the time they are ten. I was sure that Alexander had circled me at least three times in this. Things were not so bad though. It turned out that he'd missed me too, and we were the best of friends before I could unpack. I remained his opponent, and I remained the winner. As it turned out he could not beat me, and I learned that I could do things I never would have given myself credit for.

Yes, I was there from the beginning. I remember each and every thing we have ever done together, and almost everything we have ever done apart. I was the only one that did not hold their breath when he stepped into the pen with Bucephalus, his most known challenge as a child. His mother clasped her hands and prayed. Even his father stopped breathing. The entire crowd did, especially the trader that knew if Alexander broke his neck, his neck would break too. I, on the other hand, smile. Something told me that he would be fine. It was my heart.

I was there on the first battle, where we became men instead of children. I can remember each step he took in that battle, like so many others, but I remember horrid things as well. He lost his innocence that day, after he killed a man, and I saw the torment that had almost been hidden throughout the rest of his life. I can recall the faces of the first men we killed. But I was also there on better occasions. I was there on the night that we both learned how to touch one another, how to make love slowly and quietly so that the guards outside of his room would not hear. I was in his bed many nights after that as well, never regretting a moment of it, but always fearing what would happen if we were caught. When his father died it was I that crowned him so that no other could steal from him what he deserved. There are so many other things. There are thousands of events stored away in my memory, and some on paper, that no others truly know the truth of. No one else can truly know what Alexander whimpered when he had his first orgasm. I can assure you, it was not even my name, but something far more entertaining.

Coming to Persia changed everything. What we share is everlasting, but that does not mean that everything between us is fine. Alexander has always taken others when it pleases him. I cannot complain though, for how could I? There are some things that I cannot give him, like the tender touch of a woman. Sometimes he desires such a touch I believe, so he has always been rather frank with me. If there is something he truly wants he takes it and I find out later. No, never have I blamed him. Sometimes I worry, but I never blame him. Yet something happened in Persia that not even I know how to get past. He is a lithe dancing boy with boyish looks. I have my qualms now. Things were different with him. I know what has gone on between them, and I know that Alexander waited from quite some time before he told me. I tried to tell myself it was not my business, or that he'd forgotten, but it is my business and I know he did not forget. He's had him more than once as well. It hurts me. It as if he has made slow sweet love to me, and in a breathless whisper he's said goodbye and plunged a dagger into my heart before I can even utter a word. Perhaps it feels even worse than that.

How can I compare with him? I have asked myself this a thousand times and I still am not sure. I do not know what I am doing here anymore. I know that Alexander loves me, however, I wonder if that is enough for us. Maybe there are things that I cannot give him.

Things are worse here though. We are in a land of ash; everything is gray here. The soil is either pudding beneath your feet or harder than the walls that surround the city. The sky is always gray, even when there should be a sun. I have to squint sometimes, and then I can almost see it. There is rain, and nothing but rain it seems, and when there is no rain it still remains cold. I hate it here. Alexander believes it is a good change for us. How is this change? We keep traveling from one form of hell to another. He has found something here that I cannot compare with. He's found himself a wife here.

Do I really have nothing left to offer him? Have I grown so old, so repulsive in appearance, that he has replaced me with a eunuch and a wife? These questions and so many others run through my mind. They keep me from my plate as we sit in the hall, drums thundering, or perhaps it is rain, as men around me laugh. I cannot breathe, let alone laugh. I glance up and look at him. He is sitting next to Bagoas, and on the other side a member of the Bactrian court. I've displeased him so much I'm even on the other side of the table. He laughs at something then goes back to speaking with the court member. They are discussing her. I can tell. I can always tell. After a few minutes he looks to me and smiles. His smile fades when I do not look back at him. My eyes say everything that I am thinking, but perhaps he cannot read my eyes anymore. I am asking him only one thing, one simple question I cannot speak but need to know. I do not mean to be weak. I do not wish to appear as if I am heartbroken. I could try to go on without him, if those were his wishes, but he's not answered. He can't even hear me. He can't understand. Or, he no longer wants to. He no longer needs to, for he has them. Still, my eyes plead.

_Why am I no longer good enough for you?_

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**A/N: Let me know what you think. It may seem short, but it is the prologue. Also, Hephaestion appears slightly weakened at the moment, almost defeated. However, he'll grow stronger. Still, let me know what YOU think! **


	2. Out of Mind, Out of Sight

**Title:** χορεύω

**Author: **Baliansword

**Chapter:** 2, "Out of Mind, Out of Sight"

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Summary:** Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

**A/N:** No one panic, Hephaestion is going to toughen up –like we are used to. I know that it's hard to see Hephaestion in a weakened state. It's even hard for me to write it. However, I think every now and then he did become a bit depressed. Yet like many of you have said, he does always find a way to manage.

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It was raining once again. The sky was gray and bleak, hardened drops of rain fell from the skies, muddying the earth and drowning newly sprouting vegetation. Today he did not mind though. Instead he picked up the small jar of ink and stepped out onto the terrace. He took the yellowing parchment with him and sat silently. Using extreme caution he unrolled the map and placed rounded onyx stones upon the corners. He surveyed his previous work. Each line had been carefully crafted, and even the curves and bends of rivers seemed to have been drawn with some sort of device. Surprisingly the map even appeared to be in perfect scale, just as he hoped for, even though he'd never been taught how to perfectly create a map. There were plenty of map makers in the trains that followed Alexander's campaigns, but his looked different. He had the major battles, the major places, rivers, mountains, but he had other icons as well. Oracles were mapped out, as were other ancient places of interest. Even Troy found a place upon his map, which when it was fully extended measured about eight feet in length.

For some time he worked, engrossed in his drawing, undistracted. After a good hour he heard the rain slow and children began to emerge from their homes. He glanced up, setting his pen down, and watched as a few of the boys began to play a game. They split into two teams and each tried to capture a red ball, which they would then have to throw through a ring that was nailed sideways into a tree. Hephaestion recognized the ring as a target for bowman. Smiling, he watched for a few moments as the boys played. After a few moments he stepped away from the edge of the terrace and sat back down before his map. Ink was still drying on a few areas, so he decided to roll the ends up. The just finished area he would leave out to dry while he went to find a meal.

When he reached the dining hall only Ptolemy appeared, turning through the pages of a book, lounging calmly on a pile of skins. Hephaestion watched him for a moment as he approached then looked away. He found a pitcher of water sitting out and poured it into a clean, wooden cup. Sighing softly he drank before sitting down on a window ledge. Ptolemy glanced up at him, shutting his book, and hinted a smile. Shaking his head Hephaestion spotted Ptolemy out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know," Hephaestion whispered shakily after a few moments of silent. Ptolemy pushed himself up, wrapped an arm around his knee, then tossed his book down. The loud thud that it created as it hit the stone floor caused Hephaestion to look over at him. He stared at his friend and general, and did nothing more than summarize him for a moment. Nothing had ever caught up to him, not even age, until they had come here. He remembered the young blue-eyed boy he'd left Pella with, and saw the man that he had become. His cerulean eyes were still the same, more knowledge and wisdom hidden behind them, but they still were the truth of his soul. Yet his hands were calloused, his skin a darker tan from years in the sun, and around the corners of his mouth were thin lines from where he'd frowned or smiled over the years. There were other differences though, some more noticeable. Scars had marked his once untouched skin; a handsome scar covered his thigh, another two thin scars upon his face, and a deep gash had nicked his right hand.

"You know," he said after staring at him in silence for a moment, "what I have realized?" Hephaestion was not going to respond. Whether or not it had been a rhetorical question, he had taken it as one. His friend shrugged, then leaned back against the crook of the window frame. Ptolemy drew in a short breath and then continued. "Do you remember when we entered Darius' palace, it seems like a lifetime ago, but do you remember?"

"How could I forget?"

"She," he went on, referring to Stateira, "thought that you were Alexander, the great conqueror they had heard so much about. Alexander, after hearing this, told her that she was not wrong. 'He too is Alexander' were his words, I believe."

"They were," Hephaestion replied. He smiled, even now, remembering Alexander's words. At the time he had been unsure of the meaning, and even of what it would mean to others. However, as time had passed, nothing terrible had come from it.

"I think we are all Alexander."

"Don't tell him," Hephaestion teased. "With you I am sure he would not mind, but others he would not want so closely related to him."

"I mean it," Ptolemy laughed, taking a sip of his watered wine. "I think each of us has a bit of Alexander coursing through our veins. We are all a different piece of him, as if he were a puzzle. You are his heart and soul, I his mind, Cassander is his sword."

"Cassander is his sword?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes," he answered in a serious tone. "I know what you mean Ptolemy. I may even agree with you."

There was silence after these words. Ptolemy watched Hephaestion as he gazed out of the window at the sunlight. He wondered what the other was thinking, but like always one could not be sure. Hephaestion was too complex for even his peering eyes. At times he appeared to be angry, but would merely be in thought. At other times he looked as he did now, solemn and worn, but perhaps he was simply revisiting old memories. Ptolemy raised his cup to his lips and drank once more. He then pushed himself up and strode across the room. Without a moment's hesitation he glanced out the window, where they could still see the boys playing their game.

"It was not that long ago that we were their age," Ptolemy said. "We were playing war though, the Macedonians versus the Persians. Is it not amazing that we have lived out a childhood game?"

"What do you mean lived it out? We still have plenty left to do if you ask Alexander. He wants to keep going until we reach another ocean. These mountains will only hold him for a short period of time."

"Until an heir is conceived, you think?"

"Yes," Hephaestion agreed. "Perhaps once an heir is conceived we will march on. There are plenty of men that will be joining us, I can tell. When you ride in you can see those that will end up in a legion."

"Can you?"

"Yes. They look at you differently. There are those that are afraid or unsure. They are the ones that will be in the legions. Those that stare at you as if you are a false idol, or a false regiment, they are the ones that must have eyes kept upon them."

"Ah," Ptolemy said as he sat down across from Hephaestion on the windows edge. "I finally see what has you so downtrodden. You are questioning him again."

"No," he disagreed. "You know that I never question him. Alexander knows what he is doing. His dream is to unite the world, and look how far we have come. I just at times wish that I could see the end before we reach it. In twenty years where will we be Ptolemy? We will be what, in our forties, and still I do not know where we will be. Do you not ever wonder what is going to become of us?"

"In twenty years you will still be the pretty one, I the wise one, and Alexander the king of the world. The location may change, but character does not, so we shall not. Each day is different Hephaestion. We must live each day as if it is our last."

"I just wonder."

"Would you like a job to keep your mind from wandering then?"

"Did Alexander assign you something that you just do not wish to do?"

"Something like that," laughed Ptolemy. He sipped from his cup once more, draining its contents, then glanced out again at the boys. He next turned his attention back to Hephaestion. "The legion assignments are old and worn, separated, that sort of thing. Alexander wanted another master list to be created, and I admit that I have not started it yet. I have all of the lists that I could find, along with general names, etcetera, but they need to be rewritten. Alexander did not wish for a scribe to do it because we only have two kinds. Those that spell Greek names perfectly, and butcher the Persian –or those that butcher the Greek and make the Persian names immaculate. Truly, you are the only one that can perfect both languages."

"I perfect neither, but I will do it."

"Are you sure it will not be too much trouble?"

"Of course not."

An hour later Hephaestion had ninety scrolls sitting on his desk. Some may have considered them to be clutter, but he found them to be a nice personal touch. Hephaestion stepped out onto the terrace and glanced at his map. The rivers he had created earlier were now dry and he unrolled the entire map, just to roll it perfectly. As he was finishing he heard his door creek open. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Alexander entering the room. Alexander's eyes drifted to the pile of scrolls, and immediately a smile crossed his lips. Hephaestion smiled, but for different reasons. Alexander was beautiful, perhaps even more beautiful than he had been so many years ago. Age did not hurt him, like a fine book or drink it bettered him.

"So I see that Ptolemy has stuck you with his job," Alexander chuckled as he placed a soft kiss against Hephaestion's brow. He ran a hand over his cheek, the simplest of gestures, but one that made Hephaestion glow inside. It made him young again, as if he were the only one Alexander had ever seen in his life, as if there were no other world outside of the room. Alexander then turned and sat down upon the couch, picking up the book he found there. It was a worn copy of the _Iliad_, which had been written years ago in Babylon, transcribed by the best Persian linguists.

"Do you mind," asked Hephaestion.

"In a way," he replied. Hephaestion raised an eyebrow. "I know that you will complete the lists, and they will be meticulously perfect. But at the same time I told Ptolemy to do it because I did not want you busying yourself too much."

"I can do it."

"I know you can," Alexander assured him as he stood. Once again he was walking around the room, surveying each and every corner. He then stepped out onto the terrace, where the map was rolled up on the table. Alexander picked the scroll up, curious, and twirled it in his hand for a moment. "What is this?"

"Don't," Hephaestion said, pulling the map away before Alexander could untie it. Alexander watched, still rather curious, as Hephaestion put the map into a chest in his room. When he felt Alexander's eyes upon him Hephaestion glanced back over at him. "It is a surprise. You cannot see it yet."

"Let me see," Alexander mused playfully. "What could you possibly put on a giant roll of parchment? A letter, a drawing, a map… Ah, it must be a map. Your lip twitched."

"It did not."

"Yes it did, just a bit at the corner. You bought me a map somewhere didn't you?"

"No," Hephaestion said firmly. "It may not even be for you. I said it was a surprise, I did not say it was for you. You're just going to have to accept that I, like you, keep a few secrets."

"Liar," Alexander smirked. "You don't keep secrets from me."

"I may," Hephaestion said as Alexander wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him close. Alexander silenced him with a sudden kiss, one that was both demanding and sensual. Hephaestion kissed back, wanting more than anything to be in Alexander's arms, but slowly turned his head away as the kiss began to end. "You know that there are things you have to attend to today. We don't have time."

"I can make time."

"Alexander, you know that there is nothing I want more in the world than you. But you have duties now, duties that surpass me. Go speak with your new Bactrian officers, and I shall see you at dinner. I will wish you a goodnight, and you can go seduce your wife and produce an heir. Perhaps tomorrow."

"Phae," Alexander asked as Hephaestion stepped back out onto the terrace. The king followed him out, then sat down across from him, using the table as a chair. "Have I done something to anger you?"

"It is not you Alexander."

"Is it someone else," he questioned. "You know that you can tell me these things Hephaestion. Tell me, who was it? What did he do? Tell me and I swear it Hephaestion…"

"No one has done anything," Hephaestion interjected before Alexander could go on. He knew that if he let Alexander go on they could be there for hours. "If anyone had, as always, I can take care of myself."

"You seem…defensive…today. Did you sleep well last night? I told you that I did not like this room. The sun comes in too early; the drapes are too thin and you are in the worst positioned room. Are you sure you do not want another? Across from my room is still vacant."

"Alexander, please stop fussing over me. I am not a child. I like the room well enough. I enjoy waking up early. I am not angry with anyone."

"Alexander," a voice said, interrupting them. As both men glanced behind them they saw Bagoas. He'd stuck his head in the door; he was looking for his king. "The new members want to speak with you."

"I am coming," Alexander told him. He then met Hephaestion's eyes once more. "We will finish this later."

With that Alexander left the room, angry. Hephaestion watched him go, then placed his palm against his forehead. After a moment he noticed that he'd not heard the door shut. He peered over his shoulder and spotted Bagoas. Bagoas said nothing, and quickly he shut the door. When the door shut he sunk back in his chair. After a few moments he stood, went to the pile of scrolls, and began his new mission.

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**A/N:** Thank you to everyone that reviewed! Wow, I got a bunch. Just to address the main issue, Hephaestion is going to toughen up. He indefinitely went through moments when he was slightly pained at some of Alexander's decisions, but you're all right. He was always strong for Alexander. So don't worry, he'll be strong. He just needs to find his center.

Special thanks to the following reviewers:

**Vania**

**MLygia **

**Sunny-seid-up**

**Queendel**

**Euripides**

**Norrsken**

**Phai688**

**Serena **

**Arlad **

Thanks you guys for reading, reviewing, and always giving me up-front and honest reviews. I appreciate it more than you can ever know.

Baliansword


	3. Problems Need Solutions

**Title:** χορεύω

**Author: **Baliansword

**Chapter:** 3, "Problems Need Solutions"

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Summary:** Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

**A/N:** In this chapter, Alexander tries to understand why Hephaestion seems angry with him.

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It was unusually cool in the room. The walls were still bare, a dull brown color with no decorations of any sort, and the rest of the room was not much better. There were no rugs, no table places of any kind, it was completely dull. He could not help but look around, noticing these things, and wonder why they were still there. Babylon was at least a place to admire. Here there was rain, dirt, and a hundred rooms that looked just like this. This was what he was thinking of while the new Bactrian members of various positions spoke. Each said, remarkably, the same speech. The words varied for a moment here and there, but it was the same. They were grateful, and they would serve him well, and if he needed anything at all he was to tell them.

He wrapped his left hand over his right and pulled, popping four fingers in one simple motion. He switched hands and did this again, then reached up with a hand and pushed his hair behind his shoulders and out of his face. Alexander drew in another short breath and nodded. He said his thanks and then told them that they could leave. As they ushered out of the door he tried to keep his smile taunt. When the door shut he frowned and stood, turning to face Bagoas, and sat on the edge of the table.

"Has he done anything unusual," Alexander mused. Bagoas, hands held behind his back as he stood in the corner, shook his head slowly. Secretly he was wondering what odd behavior for Hephaestion would be. Alexander did not seem to truly be speaking to him though. Instead he seemed to be speaking to himself. Bagoas drew in a short breath as Alexander suddenly pushed away from the table and began to pace. He was restless, and Bagoas felt sorry for him. It must be a burden to be a king. He knew two kings, and already both seemed to be rattled. They could never rest.

"He does this to me more than he needs to," Alexander went on. "I love him, but at times he drives me mad. What is it that he wants from me Bagoas? Tell me, what have I not given him?"

Bagoas jerked back as Alexander kicked a chair, knocking it over. Alexander was slightly red in the face, and he ran his hands through his hair before uttering a soft slur of curses. Nothing was said for some time. Bagoas even felt the time passing. Finally Alexander turned to him again, and Bagoas could see that the anger was gone.

"Keep your eye on him," Alexander whispered. The king then stormed out of the room. Bagoas watched him leave and then slumped slightly. He would have rather pleased Alexander in some way, but knew he would not be able to. It seemed that this was Roxanne's job for the week. So, as he had been doing for three days now, he would have to watch Hephaestion. It was the most boring job he had ever been asked to do, but for Alexander, he would have to suffer through it.

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Hephaestion picked up the yellowed, crinkled, decayed piece of parchment and squinted at the blurred letters on the page. He set it down and then quickly penned the names on the new archive list. He leaned over, blowing upon the fresh ink, and admired the last name upon the list. All of Alexander's men were now named on paper. With their name were their rank, commander, and initial homeland. All in all he was proud. However, he now had nothing to do. He glanced around the room to check, but everything was arranged in perfect order. After a moment he rose and went to a trunk at the end of his bed. He opened it and pulled out a brown pair of pants. If there was nothing to do he would have to find something. There had to, or he hoped, be something in Bactra worth visiting. After changing he left the palace and found himself wandering into the center of the town. There was nothing left to do but shop. For what, he was not sure, but something always managed to catch his eye.

He first found a cart of spices, all of which smelled amazing, and spent some time sorting through them. He picked a few in scents out and paid for them, then went on his way. After reaching the third cart he noticed that he was not alone. Silently he glanced over his shoulder and spotted Bagoas again. Sighing he set down a golden cup, entailed with jewels, and crossed his arms. Bagoas glanced up again, this time caught, and began to turn away.

"Come," Hephaestion said loudly. Bagoas stopped in mid-stride and obeyed. As he approached Hephaestion he looked afraid, as if he worried of what the punishment would be for following Hephaestion, but when he stood before him nothing happened. Instead the Athenian stared at him and asked only one question. "What are you doing?"

"I was looking for someone," he lied. "When I saw you, I thought I would watch you."

"Why?"

"Incase you needed help translating."

Hephaestion laughed, and then strode away. Bagoas had already failed, but for the first time he understood what odd was for Hephaestion. Odd was not being at Alexander's side. Odd was his laugh, which was pleasant, but was false. There was something beneath the surface that was completely wrong, but it had not been brought to life yet. Immediately he went to tell Alexander of this.

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Hephaestion lit the end of the scented stick and then prostrated himself upon the floor. Idols had never seemed to help him more than any other man, but he decided that praying to the goddess could not harm him. He muttered a few praises, and then stopped. He was not sure what he was going to ask for. In a way, he knew what he wanted, but could not ask for it. Instead, he stood and prepared for dinner. It was going to be another eventful night. Alexander would be required to take his new bride to his bed, which meant he would go to sleep alone once more. Once he was dressed in a more proper fashion he sat down on the edge of the bed, then lay back. He stared up at the ceiling for some time before he heard footsteps in the hallway. There was no knock upon his door, but Alexander entered despite being invited.

"We need to talk," Alexander said as he flung the door shut. Hephaestion sat up, instinctively worried. Once he realized that nothing was wrong, and that Alexander was just upset, he calmed. Adrenaline still ran through his veins though. He would never be able to stop caring for Alexander, or protecting him. Before he was able to speak though Alexander went on. "I do not know what I have done to upset you, but I know that I have. What have I done Hephaestion? What can I do to stop you from sulking?"

"You are drunk," Hephaestion said with a sigh.

"What can I do to stop you from sulking," he asked again. "You look like an abused child, moping about all the time."

"There is nothing you can do," Hephaestion told him softly. Alexander stared at him for a moment, angrier than he had been even earlier. Pressure changed men, or so he had been told. In his anger he did not know how true the statement was, him being a prime example. Hephaestion looked away, picking up a feathered pen. He placed the pen back on a shelf, eyes still averted, and silence drifted into the room.

"Tell me," Alexander yelled harshly. His voice echoed through the room, and Hephaestion knew well enough that it was an order now. Slowly he shook his head, and Alexander crossed the room. Defiantly he wrapped a hand around Hephaestion's throat and forcefully shoved him against the bookcase. Hephaestion reached up and placed his hand over Alexander's wrist. He then pulled Alexander's hand away, still staring at him as if he did not know him, and shoved Alexander away from him. Alexander did not let him leave though. He placed both hands on the wall, baring Hephaestion's way. Once again he ordered for Hephaestion to tell him.

"Nothing," Hephaestion stated firmly as he brushed past Alexander. He knew him better than he knew himself. He was angry, yes, but he would not hurt him. Alexander could harm many, but Hephaestion knew he would not physically hurt him. Mentally, however, was another situation.

"Here we are at the end of the world, and you will not even speak to me! What is it? Do you hate Bactra so much that you would refuse to even look at me?"

"Damn where we are," Hephaestion shot back, finally losing his composure. "I could care less where we are! What is the end of the world to you if you reach it and those with you don't love you?"

"What are you saying," Alexander asked. "Are you saying that you don't love me?"

"Even I do not know." Hephaestion picked up the pitcher of water on his nightstand and poured himself a drink. He set the pitcher firmly down, swallowed a mouthful of water, and then went on, since Alexander had still not replied. "I cannot believe that you can ask me if I love you. If I didn't love you, do you think I would be here Alexander?"

"Where else would you be?"

"By Zeus," Hephaestion muttered. "So this is what you truly think, yet only say under the protection of wine."

"I want to know what I have done to upset you."

"How about sending Bagoas to spy on me," Hephaestion answered. Alexander seemed confused for a moment, and he went on. "Did you think that I would not notice him following me around Alexander? I may be a fool because I cannot drink myself into your state, and I cannot throw myself into the arms of whomever beckons, but I notice _him._ I note each move he makes, each time he looks at you and you gaze back at him, yes I know things Alexander."

"Bagoas," Alexander said with a laugh as he slumped down in a chair. "You are still angry about Bagoas?"

"You don't need him," Hephaestion said boldly. "But that is you Alexander. You can never stop when things are well enough. You never have enough. Instead, you have to keep going and going."

"Why don't you tell me what to do then. Do you want me to stop now, to lock myself away in a room with only you? Is that what you are asking of me?"

"You know its not," Hephaestion screamed, but there was a knock on the door. This stopped him from going on. Hephaestion strode to the door, pulling it open with an urgency that could not be matched. Ptolemy stood there, unaware of anything that had been going on.

"Is it a bad time," Ptolemy asked.

"No," Hephaestion assured him. "Take him, please. He won't be of much use to you though."

A few moments later the door shut. Hephaestion sunk down on his bed. He could not tell if he wanted to scream, or if he wanted to cry. Did Alexander truly not know him after all these years?

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Ptolemy could not help but glance over at Alexander as they sat in the dining hall. He had betrayed Hephaestion, in a way, and for the first time was wondering if it were for the better. Alexander seemed lost in thought and turned his attention to Ptolemy.

"Was it worth it," Ptolemy asked.

"You did nothing wrong," Alexander told him as he stripped himself of his shirt. He threw on another clean garment and sighed, placing his head in his hands. In truth, they had done nothing completely wrong. Pretending to be drunk was not a terrible idea, but one could consider it unfair to Hephaestion. He had said things he hoped Alexander would forget.

"What did he say?"

"He is still angry about Bagoas, along with other things."

"Can you blame him," Ptolemy asked. Alexander gave no answer.

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_Hephaestion's PoV_

It is not that I do not try to understand him, or his needs. In fact, it is the opposite. Every word he says, every move he makes, I think of over and over again so that I may better understand him. I have tried to understand his need for Bagoas, and still I can see his reasoning. He does not love him, and I know this. I keep it in the back of my mind. He does not need him, for I know that he could go on without him. The more I think of it, perhaps he could go on without me as his lover.

Roxanne I understand. Alexander needs an heir, and Roxanne can give him this. She can help him unite the old world with this new world. I still worry for him, for myself, and even for her. I worry that he thinks too much, and has not chosen a wife that will suit his heart. In this reasoning I fear for her, because she is fragile no matter what others think of her, and he could break her so easily. When I worry for myself I know that I am selfish, but cannot stop myself. I worry that she'll replace me in his heart. His companionship is all that I have, all that I have ever wanted, and I would not be able to bear losing it.

_'Which am I Hephaestion; weak, or divine,"_ he asked me so long ago. Perhaps I should have asked him what he thought of me. I feel divine when I am with him, when I can wrap my arms around him and take his pain away from him, but in times like these I am so weak.

Bagoas, I think as I stare up at the ceiling. We are not so different, he and I. In fact, we may be more alike than I would like to admit. Perhaps I should go and speak to him…

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**A/N: This may seem like a bit of a filling chapter, but it sets the premise. Hephaestion and Alexander are both confused, angry with one another, and must struggle through their emotions. However, it will be hard to do it apart. **

**As always, thanks to all of my readers and reviewers, especially:**

Vania Hepskins

MLygia

Queendel

Sunny-seid-up

Angstman

Purple Lolly

Karone Evertree

Serena

Manidefronsac

**The next chapter should be up in a few days. Please review. **


	4. Days to Come

**Title:** χορεύω

**Author: **Baliansword

**Chapter:** 4, "Days to Come"

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Summary:** Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

**A/N:** Sorry for not posting sooner! I enjoyed getting all of my comments when I got back online though. Thanks, and as always I'll address everyone at the end of this posting.

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In the days to come things did not change as Alexander would have hoped they had. Nothing seemed to change at all in fact. Hephaestion still seemed to be avoiding him, whether he truly meant to or not. It seemed and felt as if he had not seen him in years. In the past week he had only managed to see Hephaestion twice. Both times were not pleasant either. Hephaestion sat across the dark wooden table, his features like sculpted stone it seemed, as delegates deliberated about the coming campaigns. In all of his years Alexander had found delegations the most entertaining when it came to the regiments. He liked putting the generals in their places if they defied him, but this time he found no pleasure in it. Hephaestion was not at his side, and he never spoke. He did not agree with anything, nor did he disagree. Silence took on a new meaning. So yes, he had seen him only twice, but Hephaestion had not uttered a word to him. Still, Alexander found himself longing to understand what it was that had made Hephaestion so angry with him. Already he had been given advice from Ptolemy, which was to confront Hephaestion directly and ask him what was angering him. They both seemed to know that it had to do with Alexander's new choices in lovers. It was not that Hephaestion was jealous, according to Ptolemy, but that for the first time he was beginning to worry about his status. Alexander recalled laughing almost, and he told Ptolemy that no one would ever be able to replace Hephaestion. Hephaestion surely knew this, for how could he not? Still, he had not confronted Hephaestion for many reasons.

To begin, Alexander had not yet found the time to speak with him. He could have made time, yes, but not enough. He did not want to have such a conversation in a hallway, passing from one meeting to another. No, he wanted it to be so much more. He wanted Hephaestion to understand that he was still the only one that captivated his heart. His wife did not hold his heart, nor did Bagoas. It was not only time that came between them though. In truth for the first time he was confused, and scared even, and had no one to turn to. Whenever he had a problem that he could not solve himself he would speak to Hephaestion. But how could he do this now when Hephaestion would not so much as look at him unless he needed to. Also, he wondered how Hephaestion could so easily turn away from him.

For a week there were no words, no explanations, and only silence. Alexander had done nothing, nothing at all, that he would have done otherwise. He went to Roxanne on one of these nights, but had to leave before he could even begin to try to consummate an heir. He was not in the mood, and he could not force himself to pleasure a woman that he did not want. No, he wanted the one thing that he did not have. He wanted Hephaestion, more than ever, and he did not even lust for him. He just wanted him, wanted him to speak with, to share his thoughts with. He wanted Hephaestion to tell him what he thought, about anything, and wanted for Hephaestion to trust him with his heart once more. No, nothing had changed. Nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything changed.

Hephaestion, on the other hand, was struggling through each day. He knew that each day was a new challenge. That was all that he needed to know though. Without Alexander things were different, for it seemed as if he had just been reborn to a world that he did not understand. But there were some things that were keeping him going through each and every day. Most of all, he wanted to finish the rest of his map. It was his pride, this map, that he was working on when he heard a knock at the door. Slowly he glanced over his shoulder, wondering who it could be, and waited. There was another knock, so he stood, and went to the door. When he pulled it open his mouth fell, and he drew in his breath. Holding the door open the queen stepped passed him. Her chocolate eyes scanned the room, like a vulture searching desert plains for a carcass. Hephaestion, still unsure of why she was here, shut the door. This caused her to look over her shoulder, but she then sat down as if this was her own room.

"Has Alexander sent you," Hephaestion asked, before he could catch his tongue. Sometimes his thoughts ran away from him. He stepped around the table though, sat, and gazed at Roxanne. She smiled slightly and then shook her head. Leaning forward she picked up a cup of wine, which Hephaestion had left there for two days now, and peered inside of it. Feeling confident enough with the drink she took a sip, and then set it down.

"I have not seen my husband today," she told him. Her accent was thick, but something about the way she spoke could interest even Hephaestion. For the first time he truly looked at her, up close, and held nothing against her. Without holding anything against her he could see that perhaps she was beautiful. Her eyes were large, bright, but dark as well. The complexion of her skin brought out the red in her lips, and her nose, while different from other cultures, was still feminine. She was delicate, but he could still see the beastly harlot that hid beneath the surface. Yes, he saw why Alexander was drawn to her. It was not her looks, but that character that hid beneath her. Lurking deep within her core was Alexander's mother, Olympias. Aristotle had told him once that men married their mothers, and he could see it now.

"Then how can I help you, Milady," Hephaestion asked softly. He knew his place, and it was beneath her. It felt odd addressing her as an equal, let alone as his queen. She scoffed at the title though. Her nose wrinkled as soon as he had said it.

"Roxanne," was her initial reply. She seemed to be looking around the room, and Hephaestion stood. He picked up a pitcher of water and prepared her a refreshment. He handed it to her gently, and she sipped the water. After he sat she seemed to calm once more, then went on. "I have a proposition for you, something that you may like."

"Does it involve papyrus?"

"Papyrus," she asked.

"Never mind," he told her. "At the moment I am not in the best of moods. But tell me, what can I do for you Roxanne?"

"There is a passion that I have," she began. Her words caught, for her Greek was still not perfected. Hephaestion did not once seem as if he did not understand her. He stared at her silently, completely aware of her point. Had he not understood she would not have known. His eyes never shifted, and his lips never moved. "I dance, at the feasts for welcome. When I dance, it soothes me, and it used to be desirable. You understand?"

"I would stop you if I did not," Hephaestion assured her. He continued to stare at her as if she were no different from any other woman he had met. He viewed her not necessarily as a queen, but instead he viewed her as if she were a foreign diplomat of sorts. She was hired for a position, almost. The only difference was that he knew it would be impossible to get rid of her.

"Alexander will let me dance," she went on, "at the next festival for the goddess. I want to dance."

"If he is letting you then I am afraid I do not see the problem."

"The dance has two, I and a man. Alexander will not do the dance, nor would he based on his position. I, as queen, am not supposed to dance. It is a special occasion, my last dance. I need the man though to dance."

"I am sure that there are plenty of male dancers in Bactra. If not, look to the Persian ranks. A good half of the youth were trained in the ways of music and dance. Do not go yourself though. Send Bagoas, or one of your men, to ask the other generals. Ask Ptolemy, he has a grand legion filed with dancing Persians."

"No," she said. "I want you to dance."

"χορεύω," he coughed. He then shook his head, still laughing. He stood and then went to pour himself a drink. Instead of water he poured a cup of wine. It was watered down to almost nothing, but she did not know that. "I fear that you have the wrong idea about me Milady. I am a general, a warrior, nothing more."

"You dance," Roxanne said, her eyes tracing over him. She lifted a hand and pointed at him. "You have eyes that dance, the color of the ocean. They dance around the room, just as you would if you would dance."

"No," he said. "I do not dance. I am sorry, but you should find another."

"There is no other," she told him as she glanced down at her hands, which were now folded on her lap. When she glanced back up at him, he saw her pain. "They do not like me, your people. The others are no better. They hate me for what I am, and for being his wife. Even you hate me, and I can tell my lord, but you are kind. You are kind because you, before I, were outcast. They are with you now, your friends, but only because of I and Bagoas. Were we not here, you would be in my position once more. I need you."

Hephaestion drew in a breath. How could he deny her if she truly needed him? As he thought about it he shook his head. There was no way that he was worthy of dancing. Not only was he a general, but he could not dance.

"I cannot."

"Tonight," she said, standing. He had to give her credit for not taking no as an answer. "When dinner is over, you can find me in the hall. It is by the path less followed. You know it. Alexander took you there when you first arrived. One night is what I ask. If after tonight still you say no, then there will be no dance. I will not hold it against you."

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Night had fallen, and it was not much different from the day. A cool chill swept through the halls, causing the drapes to be closed. Hephaestion did not say much at dinner to anyone, let alone Alexander. Once again he was aware that Bagoas seemed to be keeping an eye on him. However, he tried not to think of that. He had other things on his mind. As he turned the corner he paused. The sound of a flute drifted through the silence of the night. Upon turning the corner he stopped and listened for a moment. Slowly he approached.

The light that lit up the small area came from candles, and a few torches that were wielded to the wall. Hephaestion came closer, until he knew that if he edged any further he would be seen. As he stopped he leaned against a pillar and stared as Roxanne lifted a long arm with the rhythm of the flute. Her hand curved, like the neck of a swan, and she moved slowly. Her movements were slow and graceful for a few moments, but with a sudden movement the tempo changed. Her movements became quick, jerking almost, and immediately he remembered the first day that he saw her dance. This was close to the dance that she'd done to enrapture Alexander. Whatever she was doing he would never be able to do. Just as he was about to turn, to leave as his mind was telling him to do, the music stopped.

"You can come into the light," Roxanne told him. He could have pretended that he did not hear her, but he knew she was entirely aware of him. It was odd, how her voice made him pause. She was of no relevance to him, nothing at all to him really, but here he was. He'd come, just as she had asked, and he feared that at any moment he would be dancing with her. Following her new instructions he stepped into the light, and his eyes glanced around the room. Immediately he caught sight of Bagoas, who did not in the slightest appear alarmed. Instead the eunuch set the flute down, then turned his back on the other two. Hephaestion turned his attention back to Roxanne.

"I cannot stay for but a moment," he lied. He defensively folded his arms over his broad chest, then cleared his throat. It was uncomfortable, to be so near her, yet so away from her in every other aspect. "I came to make sure that you were safe. You, as queen, should not be left unguarded. It is dangerous. It appears fine though, since most have drunken themselves into a coma."

"Your eyes call you a liar," she said quietly. "Your eyes dance already, Hephaestion, lover of Alexander. You were curious, which is why you came. I knew you would be."

"I am afraid you still have it wrong. I do not dance." He spotted Bagoas staring at him from the corner and added, "Especially not with him here."

"We mean you no harm," she assured him. She then took his hand in hers and upturned it. She traced the lines upon his palm, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips the entire time. "You are not what you appear. Deep down, you are not afraid."

"Try," she asked softly. "Try just once."

Hephaestion drew in a breath, but his voice would not come. Still he did not have a definite answer to give her. He scanned the room once more, then gave his answer.

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**A/N: **A bit of a cliff hanger, I know. But thanks to the following reviewers!

**Karone Evertree-** Yes, he should be honored! However, I can see where Hephaestion was not a roamer. He kept his place, which was good.

**Unski-** Thanks!

**Vania Hepskins- **Bagoas is Alexander's loyal servant as well as his lover. Hephaestion knows this, and for the first time Alexander is beginning to see how this fact is coming between them.

**Sunny-Seid-Up-** Thanks for commenting, and yes, the chapters are a bit short. I would rather get them out in short chapters than not get them out in a timely fashion.

**Phae15-** Thank you for reviewing my stories. It is nice to know that you are enjoying my tales.

**A Horse Called Hwin-** Merci!

**Yolass- **Loved your review, thanks for making it so detailed. I hope you like this chapter as well.


	5. Dance

**Title:** χορεύω

**Author: **Baliansword

**Chapter:** 5, "χορεύω"

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Summary:** Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

**A/N:** χορεύω means 'to dance' in Greek. That may clear some things up, incase you didn't know. But thanks for reading, and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy this newest chapter.

This chapter leads up to the ending, where Hephaestion will dance at the festival. Hence, it is a bit choppy.

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A soft glow lingered in the air before it fell to the solid floors. The marble was cold, the night air claiming it as it did the earth outside, and no flames brought any other heat. Darkness loomed outside, away from the pillars, and it was not much better in the sanctuary. The glow of the torches cast almost pointless light, but perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps some entertainments needed no light at all, just a feel, and just a bit of faith. He raised his arm, hooking it in the air like the neck of a swan, and then waited. He did this with such grace that the other had to glance away, muttering something under his breath. Then the first note floated through the air, and the song began, a soft melody at first to say the least. In the first moments there was this melodic tune, boring almost compared to what else Bactra had to offer, but instantaneously the tempo changed. Swans existed no longer, and instead a fire seemed to take over his body. Faster and faster he danced, his movements all the while fluid, even if such movements should have looked jerky, edgy even.

"I cannot do that," Hephaestion assured Roxanne as she set the flute down. Bagoas, breathing heavily, shook his head. Hephaestion put a hand up to stop him. Twice already Bagoas had assured him of how easy it would be, but never in a hundred years could he dance with such a grace, nor with such a passion. "I still do not see why Bagoas cannot dance with you."

"We will start off slow," Roxanne told him. Her voice was melodic, tranquil even though he knew she must be frustrated with him. As Bagoas approached she handed him the flute and then stepped out onto the floor. "Slowly at first, and you will learn. It is not so different from fighting."

"It is very different."

"Raise your hand," she ordered, and he did so. Roxanne reached out, moving his arm back slightly, and then flattened his palm. "On the first note, you move like this…then draw back. As if you are frightened, just like before a battle, you are vulnerable."

Hephaestion did as he was instructed, moving on the first note exactly as she told him. While he moved she glanced over at Bagoas, who nodded, even though he barely moved his head. As the music stopped Hephaestion sighed, feeling foolish, but listened to his next instructions. He knew that this was going to be a long night. He was not so far off either. He repeated the same three moments for almost half of an hour before Roxanne decided that she was ready to take her place, and again they went through the movements. At the end of an hour, they only had the first twenty seconds of the dance prepared. The next night was no better either. Again they rehearsed throughout the night and only have another twenty-seconds prepared. On the third night they had a minute completed, and on the fourth Roxanne told Hephaestion that they must practice the first steps all the way through. The fifth day was excruciating as he woke up.

"Hephaestion," he heard, and there was another knock at the door. Slowly Hephaestion sat up, pushing hair out of his face, and struggled to get out of bed. His feet were swollen, and hurt worse than they had on any campaign. Roxanne was clearly wrong when she said that dancing was just like a campaign. He winced, but made his way to the door without muttering too many foul words. He drew in a breath before opening the door.

"You look terrible," Cassander said as he stepped past Hephaestion. Hephaestion did not feel like arguing, even if it were with Cassander. He could not argue the point much, for he knew that he looked terrible. Cassander did not mind either and made himself comfortable on a chair. He glanced around the room once more and then turned his attention back to Hephaestion.

"What," asked Hephaestion, observing the smirk that kept creeping back onto Cassander's face. Cassander laughed for a moment, and then smiled.

"You missed the meeting this morning about what to do with new veteran soldiers," Cassander informed him. He watched as the realization struck Hephaestion across the face. "So, who is taking up all of your time?"

"What," Hephaestion asked as he pulled his hair back, tying it with a strip of leather. He was going to have to explain this to Alexander, and for the life of him he didn't know how to. Never before had anything been more important than Alexander, and the Empire. Dancing, he felt, was nothing compared to veteran soldiers. They deserved his attention, not Roxanne, but for the life of him he could not convince himself that he had done something terribly wrong.

"Alexander will never hear it from me," Cassander assured him.

"No," Hephaestion agreed as he began to wipe the black lines from under his eyes. "He would hear it from a page, who heard it from his general, who heard it from you."

"So you admit that there is another?"

"I fear that you've hoped too much Cassander, for there is no other in my life besides Alexander."

"Well," Cassander sighed, and sat back. "Then what is it that takes up so much of your time? Are you still working on your map?"

Before Hephaestion could stop him Cassander had risen and gone to the other end of the room. Already he had the map unrolled when Hephaestion glanced up. However, he did not mind that Cassander had nothing better to do than pester him. Cassander stared at the map for a few moments before he rolled it back up then tossed it back. He lost interest quickly and went to the door. As he passed he winked at Hephaestion, which Hephaestion did not understand. He shook his head as the door shut behind Cassander. Now he only had to worry about Alexander.

Luckily, Alexander tended to other business throughout the day.

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Three more days of pain followed Hephaestion. He continued to practice his dance with Roxanne, and repeatedly she had him start over. On the third night, almost done with the entire routine, he was beginning to hate every moment spent with her. The only thing that kept him there was the fear that he had nothing better to do. Or, even though he barely admitted it to himself, perhaps he liked dancing more than he would have thought. Tonight would push him to the limits though.

"Lift your arm once more," Roxanne told him. He did what he was told, and then she stepped away. "Good, now do it once more. With Bagoas, and I shall watch."

"No," Hephaestion said, his arm falling. "I am sick of this Roxanne!"

"Once more."

"No! My entire body is screaming at me to stop, and I have not slept in days. Now you ask me to dance not only with you, but with him?"

"Once more," she promised. She kept such a promise, for he danced only once more before the festival.

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Alexander slowly crept down the hall, not wanting to awake anyone. He crept past another hall before turning. Without a moment's hesitation he pushed Hephaestion's door open. However, when he entered the room he was sadly disappointed. Hephaestion was not in bed, nor was he in any other part of the room. Sighing, Alexander lay down on the bed. Where could Hephaestion be at such an hour?

He sat there, thinking, and wondering why he had let himself slip away from Hephaestion. He thought next about Bagoas; the reason that he and Hephaestion had fallen apart. There was no characteristic in Bagoas that he could not find in Hephaestion. In fact, Hephaestion had more to offer him. Their bond was sacred, and never should have been challenged. After an hour of thinking, and doing little more, he heard the door open. Slowly he sat up and waited for Hephaestion to approach. However, Hephaestion did not seem to notice him. Instead, appearing rather weary, Hephaestion slipped out of his clothing and made his way into the bathing room adjoined to his room. Alexander watched, all the while saying nothing, but let a smile cross his lips.

After Hephaestion went into the other room Alexander waited a few more minutes before rising. Silently he entered the bathing room, and found Hephaestion sleeping in the tub, surrounded by warm water.

"Hephaestion," he whispered, but Hephaestion did not reply. Alexander reached out and ran his hand over Hephaestion's cheek. He had so much to tell him, but it would have to wait.

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A/N: Sorry that this is so short. The next chapter will be longer, and better, though. Finally we'll get to see Hephaestion dance.

Special thanks to:

**Queendel**

**VaniaHepskins**

**Yolass**

**MLygia**

**Sunny-seid-up**

**Manidefronsac**

**TheNoLifeQueen**

**Arlad**

**Karone Evertree**

**Norrsken**

**Tenshi-Tsubasa201**

**Bluehaven4220**


	6. The Dance

**Title:** χορεύω

**Author: **Baliansword

**Chapter:** 6, "The Dance"

**Rating:** T for Teen

**Summary:** Divisions are easily made, and hearts are easily changed. In Persia this seems all the more true after Alexander receives Bagoas. Hephaestion carries the burden of knowing that his love has found another, and when they reach Bactra it is no better. Yet in his enemies Hephaestion may find the greatest allies of all.

**A/N:** A special thanks to everyone reading this. You all are amazing, and I value each and every reader and commenter. Thanks so much!

Sorry that it took so long to update; my computer was down again!

**WARNING: There is heavy sexual content in this chapter! **

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The sun finally sunk beneath the horizon, putting to rest the fire that had been burning against the blackest silhouette. With the coming of the night things changed in Bactra, as they always did, but this time he did not notice them as much. Still he heard the sounds of voices echoing through the halls, from the festival that had already began. Where boys had once played there was now a vacancy, a void in time it seemed, but they too had likely gone to see what Alexander had in store this time. Just as all of Alexander's feasts this one would be grand, a sight that thousands would never see, yet Alexander's feasts had one flaw. They all seemed the same, repetitive, as if nothing were ever going to change. This was not the case on this night, and Hephaestion knew this as he drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. He wondered how many nights he had been here now, in Bactra, and upon thinking it through realized that never before had he felt this at ease with everything. It was as if the world had stopped, and he was fine with this, for it had at least stopped before him. He knew of the halt, and he knew where he stood, and most importantly he stood alone.

When the door creaked open he thought for a moment that it would be Bagoas, who was coming to collect him at the right moment. Alexander could not see him before the dance, or he may in fact call the entire thing off. This was not what he wanted, and in such had not seen Alexander the entire morning. As much as it hurt, it was also something that he feared he was used to by now. Things were different here, and had been, and for the first time even Alexander seemed to note it. It was not Bagoas though, not his enemy that had for a few days become an ally, but instead it was Cassander. Without a moment's hesitation Cassander crossed the room, coming face to face with Hephaestion, and stared boldly at him. Hephaestion knew well enough that his face was covered in a light layer of color to make him appear darker, that his eyes were lined in charcoal it seemed, and even that he wore the garb of a Bactrian dancer. Even knowing all of this Cassander did not intimidate him. Instead, he merely stood, staring back at Cassander as if he had looked like this his entire life.

"This must be the other in your life," Cassander finally said, his voice calm, but commanding all the same. Quietly he reached forward and pulled a small strand of Hephaestion's hair down, placing it upon his cheek. The rest he left alone, tied behind Hephaestion's ears in natural waves. He then smiled softly, as if he were a proud father of sorts, and took a few steps back.

"It almost suits you," he murmured.

"For how long have you known," Hephaestion asked, bracing himself with his arms as he leaned against the back of a chair. Cassander only shrugged, as he often did when he knew too much about something too petty for another to bother with.

"I just wanted to see you before you went," Cassander replied. "It is not every day that we get to see a general dancing like a barbarian."

"It is not so bad."

"For you, I know. Alexander was looking for you earlier. Bagoas is not too far ahead of him either. Get ready to captivate him, or infuriate him, I'm not sure which."

"You're supposed to wish me good luck," Hephaestion said as Cassander reached the door. Cassander glanced over his shoulder, a soft smile creeping over his lips, and he faintly shook his head.

"I already have."

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Alexander knocked before entering, even though the gesture was awkward. However, he knew that he and Hephaestion were not on the best of terms. When there was no response he leaned his forehead against the door and tried once more. If Hephaestion were in the room he was surely avoiding him. Realizing this he reached out and pushed the door open, not caring about the state that he found Hephaestion in. He needed to seem him, he needed him. When he stepped in the room Hephaestion was nowhere to be found. Alexander cursed softly to himself, knowing that he should have spoken to Hephaestion the other night, but like a fool he'd just stared at Hephaestion as he slept in the tub. He was not sure what he was going to do, but he knew that sitting in Hephaestion's room was not going to be the answer.

He entered the hall once more, this time slightly more depressed, even though he knew that he could not let it show. Perhaps Hephaestion had already gone to the banquet hall. If Hephaestion were seen anywhere it would be a miracle from the gods. He'd walled himself up in his room for the last few days and no one had seen him since. Alexander made his way to the hall, and for once he was not stopped along the way, but when he entered everything seemed to go silent as his men turned to look at him.

"Alexander," Ptolemy said, stepping forward, and Alexander waved his hand. Everything then went on as normal. Ptolemy stepped to his side though and wrapped his arms around him in a quick embrace. "Things are already going according to plan. The men are covered with the scent of wine and women, and yet we've seen naught of you. Tell me, dear friend, were you settling your business with Hephaestion, or is he still avoiding you?"

"I have not seen him as of yet," Alexander replied, wondering why it was he told Ptolemy so much about his life. He was his friend, yes, but still he knew a great deal of precious information. "If you see him tell him that I am looking for him, will you? Don't tell him what it regards, but just that it is important. Tell him that I'm ill if you must, something terrible, and then we'll see if he will speak with me."

"Hephaestion has a heart of gold, but you and I both know that such hearts do not forgive so easily. He may in fact just wish you well at this point." Ptolemy waited for a moment before shaking his head, and with a slight laugh he added, "You know that I jest Alexander. He loves you, and with time he will feel the emptiness that I see in your eyes. He'll be back. Give him some time, and when he does come back, make sure to tell him what it is you feel for him."

"I will," Alexander told him. He then surveyed the crowd once more, searching for the slightest hint of Hephaestion. His eyes met with Cassander instead, who smirked, then took a sip of his wine. After doing so he looked away. Not taking much notice Alexander glanced around once more. Ptolemy laughed, telling him that he needed to calm himself or it would be even more obvious, but then his friend left his side to converse with others.

He still did not know what he was going to say, precisely, to Hephaestion. He knew that he couldn't just approach him and tell him that he was sorry, that he'd been a fool, and that never again would he touch another if it meant loosing the only one he'd ever cared for. At this point he was even willing to forgo attempts at having an heir, even though he knew that Hephaestion understood the reason Alexander had found himself in Roxanne's arms. Still, such words were not good enough for Hephaestion; he deserved better. Giving him a gift would be no better either. Hephaestion was not one to be bought, and he would view a gift as some sort of a payment or bribe. However, if he did not see Hephaestion soon he would not need to speak with him. He'd die without Hephaestion; already he felt his heart stopping, and his mind was thick with nasty gray clouds.

"Alexander," Cassander greeted a few moments later when he found a seat next to the king. He sat, his eyes wandering around the room for a moment too, and then continued. "You look dissatisfied, is the feast not to your liking?"

"All is well," Alexander assured him. He had to remember to look as if he were enjoying himself. It may not be the case, but to look otherwise insulted not only gods, but his guests as well, and they should have been more important than his own issues. They weren't, he knew, but he had to at least pretend. He drank a sip of his wine, which was not watered in the slightest, and then turned his attention to Cassander. "Are things well with you Cassander? You seem to be sitting with me, and there is no woman on your lap."

"Nor will there be tonight," he answered. "There is a rumor spreading through the halls that Roxanne will be dancing tonight. You let your wife do such before your peers?"

"Yes, but just for this last time. It is part of what she has asked of me, so I gave it to her. You know women Cassander; they would suck the breath from your lungs if they thought it would better them."

"Then you are truly a brave man, for you've married."

"Yes," he replied nonchalantly. His thoughts were still on Hephaestion, who still had not made himself present. Alexander wondered where he would be if not in the gardens, his room, or in this very room. Even Cassander was not keeping his attention, and often times he paid very close attention to Cassander. It was not always that he was interesting, but that at any moment he may slip into a conversation words that did not need to be uttered.

"Perhaps you have married more than twice," Cassander suggested. Alexander glanced over at him and then took another gulp of his wine. He was going to need a refill in a moment if Hephaestion was not present. Cassander went on, "I wonder at times if you have not secretly wed Hephaestion."

"Hephaestion and I have not wed," Alexander said, trying to lightly play off the words. In truth he wanted to strangle Cassander for even mentioning Hephaestion's name. Every time he did it was with malice and envy.

"That isn't what silence tells me." Alexander looked over at him, perhaps a bit thrown off, and Cassander explained. "I see the way that you two look at one another. With looks you say more to one another than I've ever seen you say in any other point in time. Your feelings for one another wed you, and the gods seem to have blessed you in this binding. What else is there apart from such a bond?"

"Nothing," the other answered. He was interrupted by the sound of a drum though, and slowly attention turned to two male dancers. Both Alexander knew well enough; the boys were pages to Ptolemy. He paid them a bit of attention but then turned his head to the left, expecting to see Cassander, but saw nothing. He was once again alone. The chair next to him, one which Hephaestion often frequented, was cold and empty.

The two continued to dance, but Alexander lost interest quickly. The pace was too slow. Once more he scanned the room, hoping to find even the slightest sight of Hephaestion. He saw many that he knew, and once he even thought he saw the back of Hephaestion's hair, but soon realized that it was not Hephaestion at all. He sat back in his chair, again downtrodden, and went back to watching the dancers. It was the polite thing to do, since after all they believed they were dancing mostly for him. The boys stopped and took their leave, and then the main stage was lit, alcohol being poured into the fires to brighten them. Alexander sat up and began to watch. Not before long Roxanne stepped onto the scene, dressed in a dark red dress with appealing slits cut up to her thighs, her hair falling in ringlets behind her ears. She knelt, and then waited. Already this was more entertaining to him. He let a server fill his cup, and then watched.

A drum struck once and Roxanne reached out with a hand, into darkness of the entrance. Suddenly, and without warning, a flute began to play, its soft melody floating through the room. Roxanne slowly rose and began to gently drift across the carpets, all the while acting as if she were searching for something. Her arms rose into the air and then fell gracefully, and she spun about on her heels, and then the flute ceased. Roxanne stopped as well, her hand outstretched in the same direction, and the drums began to rapidly pulsate. A hand then met with Roxanne's and the dance truly began, forcing Alexander to sit forward in his seat. Another man, dressed in dark black attire, rapidly kept step to the music, his body rocking back and forth. As Roxanne did an ornate turn the man dropped to his knees, then rolled his body backward, his chest heaving. Alexander lifted a hand to his chin, to keep his mouth shut, and continued to stare.

Back arched the dancer then reached straight up and jerked his arms in both directions before flipping himself back into a standing position. Stepping to the left he wrapped an arm around Roxanne's waist, drawing her closer, and bent her backward, delivering a soft kiss to her throat. It was then that Alexander saw the awkward moment, but no other seemed to notice. Within a second they both leapt to the side and spun once more, the man turning his body in a graceful manner, but still one could see this was no mere dancer. The drums continued to beat though, and the faster they went the faster the dancers went. Roxanne was supposed to outshine the man, but Alexander could not look away. It took another moment for the dance to end, cymbals now joining the drums as Roxanne finished rocking her hips to the sides, and the two stopped. The audience immediately applauded, and Alexander rose. As he began to walk toward the dancers, the one he wished to speak with most, stepped away from Roxanne. He whispered something, and then hastily left the stage, entering down the same dark hall he'd entered from.

"You did well," he told Roxanne, wrapping her in an embrace, but this contact soon ceased. Knowing that all of the audience was listening to him he went on. "Tell me, does your partner not wish to stand before his king?"

"He feared you would be displeased," was her answer. Alexander accepted this, and raised his cup. A toast was in order, for he still needed to find Hephaestion. However, he now knew where to look for him.

"Drink," Alexander told his audience. "Drink tonight, for the gods drink with us!"

It worked. Many cheered and hailed, and he had a moment to step away. Without any explanation he entered the dark hallway. Unafraid of what could be hiding in any corner he continued down the hall until it ended abruptly. There was a corridor to the left, but he knew of the secret passage to the right and opted to take such a route instead. He knew this passage well enough, and within moments he was making his way down another hallway, this one only dimly lit. When he stopped he stood before Hephaestion's door. Boldly he pushed the door open and stepped inside, again not caring in what state he found Hephaestion, as long as he found him. As the door shut he spotted Hephaestion, sitting before a mirror with a wet cloth in hand. He'd successfully wiped the brown powder from his face, but the eyeliner still remained thick below his eyes. Already he had thrown his clothes into a pile in the corner and had wrapped his bare body in a Persian robe. Had Alexander not already known he would have said that Hephaestion was merely trying to outline his eyes.

"You should have stayed," Alexander said, breaking the silence. Hephaestion set the cloth in his hand down and sat back, as if he were in some sort of trouble. Alexander confidently sat down upon the edge of the bed. "I would have applauded you, announced you before all as the best dancer in all of Asia."

"I," he began, but then looked down at his lap. Finally he looked up, his cerulean eyes attempting to conceal his insecurity, and went on. "I did it as a favor, for Roxanne."

"As always," Alexander whispered as he moved, placing himself upon the couch closest to Hephaestion. "Once again you do for others, but not for yourself. Hephaestion…I love only you, and never before have I felt loss. But I felt loss when you left me, and I wanted nothing else but you. Hephaestion, I would trade this all if only you would forgive me."

"You know you are forgiven," Hephaestion replied.

"No, I don't want you to just say it. I want to earn it Hephaestion. I want to work for it, as I have for everything else. You are the only thing that I want to conquer, to own, but you are the only thing that I cannot conquer."

"Alexander," he began, but was stopped. Alexander placed his lips against Hephaestion's in a fluid motion, one that had been practiced a thousand times. This time it was different though, the desire they'd had as youths was back. Alexander placed his hand on the back of Hephaestion's neck and pulled him closer, pressing his own lips firmer against Hephaestion's, and softly kissed him. He pulled at his lower lip, tugging him closer, and then wrapped his other arm around Hephaestion's waist. He then let their lips part and gently rested his forehead against Hephaestion's, staring into his eyes all the while.

"Stay with me tonight," Hephaestion pleaded, already wanting Alexander more than he could describe. He rested his hand against Alexander's cheek, he still did not move, and then brushed his lips against Alexander's. He wanted to be soft, but despite this he leaned in once more and kissed Alexander with a bit more force. This time Alexander responded. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around Hephaestion, placing one on his back, the other on his neck, and pulled him forward. He kissed him back, loving each sensation, and then slowly flicked his tongue against Hephaestion's lips. Hephaestion parted his lips, freely giving him claim to his mouth, and met Alexander's tongue with his own. Alexander's hand then slid down Hephaestion's lower back until is cupped his buttocks, and once more he pulled him closer, feeling his pulsating thighs against him. Fire ran through him, yet this was not about him, not now. It was about Hephaestion, about pleasing him, and about winning him back. Nothing was like touching Hephaestion, or feeling Hephaestion touch him back.

Their lips broke for a quick moment and Alexander noted that Hephaestion, out of practice it seemed, was already panting. He lifted him with a sudden barbaric movement and set him on the flat of the table before the mirror. Hephaestion let out a soft groan as Alexander captured his lips once more, his hands finding their proper place on Hephaestion's chest. His fingers worked with the soft silk that kept him from Hephaestion's skin until he was pushing the robe away from Hephaestion's shoulders. The robe slipped, falling to Hephaestion's waist, and Alexander let his fingers lightly trace each indentation. All the while he continued to kiss Hephaestion, leaving him near breathless each time. His fingers lightly brushed against a scar, teasing Hephaestion all the more. As his finger ran over the scar repeatedly Hephaestion let a moan vibrate in his throat. Alexander continued, running his hands up and down Hephaestion's chest, his touches bringing electric tingles to Hephaestion until he was hard beneath his robe. No, he had not been this close to Alexander for some time, but he remembered moments like this.

Alexander let his hands wander to Hephaestion's thighs. Lightly he dug each finger into Hephaestion's soft skin and began to pull his fingers down, leaving light traces of red where he'd been, which soon after disappeared. He then let his lips break away from Hephaestion's and placed them against his throat. He could feel his pulse, now rapid, beneath him. Eagerly he sucked against a pulse he felt, bringing blood to the surface, but without pain. When his lips moved next a small red mark remained. His hands still wrapped around Hephaestion's thighs, and now he drew him closer. Without hesitation Hephaestion wrapped his legs around Alexander, edging him closer. As he pulled Alexander closer to him he let out a soft cry, mixed with a load sigh, as Alexander took one of his nipples in his mouth. He bit lightly, but then flicked his tongue against the soft flesh, removing all pain and leaving only excitement.

Hephaestion wrapped a hand in Alexander's hair, at the nape of his neck, and drew his head up once more. He kissed him readily and arched his back, forcing his chest up against Alexander's. With the same force he tightened his legs around Alexander as his tongue licked at Alexander's earlobe. Alexander let out his own stifled moan now and reached up with a hand, pressing it against the mirror to steady himself. They held a kiss for another moment, Hephaestion letting Alexander take control. Alexander let his free hand wander to the sash at Hephaestion's waist. With a simple tug the sash was free, and Alexander spread the robe away from Hephaestion's legs, revealing his desire for Alexander. Slowly the king then let his hand glide over the soft skin of Hephaestion's inner thighs. He skimmed his fingers over another scar, this one from a farmer's blade, and continued upward. Within moments he was caressing Hephaestion where he burned to be touched, the fire almost overcoming him as he held tightly to Alexander as his first spasm of shear pleasure overcame him.

"Take me to bed," Hephaestion pleaded, his voice soft, his breath striking Alexander's shoulder. Alexander continued to kiss Hephaestion's chest, then slowly lifted his head. He placed his forehead against Hephaestion's and then lifted both hands, placing them on either side of his face. Breathing softly he placed a soft kiss against Hephaestion's nose, slowing the process all the more.

"I didn't come for this," he then whispered. He stared into cerulean depths, lined in black, and again kissed Hephaestion's nose. "What I feel for you is deeper than this Hephaestion; it is so much more."

"Do you love me," asked Hephaestion. "For if you love me, even in the slightest, I am yours."

"No," Alexander said, pausing before continuing. He saw the flash of fear in Hephaestion's eyes, but dismissed it upon finishing. "You will never belong to me Hephaestion. Not even a god could own you; you're too perfect to be owned."

"I love you Alexander," his friend, noble companion, and lover replied softly. He then dipped his head, placing his lips upon Alexander's, and delicately kissed him. His lips barely touched Alexander, leaving them both breathless, and Alexander could finally take it no longer. Urgently he slid his tongue into Hephaestion's mouth, tempting him, and slid both arms around Hephaestion. Lifting him he drew them to the bed, where he expertly laid Hephaestion down. For a moment he only crouched over him, taking in the sight of him. Reaching down he picked up stands of Hephaestion's hair and arranged them neatly around him before bowing his head, touching his quivering lips against Hephaestion's. Hephaestion titled his head up and let Alexander kiss him, he too knowing that this was just as important as any other touch could be. Once more Alexander worked his hands over Hephaestion's body, and in response Hephaestion wriggled under Alexander's grasp until Alexander straddled him completely. He felt his manhood brush up against Alexander's thigh and whispered his name, needing him physically, but wanting him more emotionally. Alexander brought his hand between Hephaestion's legs and once against wrapped his fingers around him, causing him to feel each pulsation as Alexander gently squeezed and stroked him.

"Lie back," Alexander instructed when Hephaestion pushed himself up on his elbows. Alexander met him with a quick kiss before pushing him gently back down. He was going to have his way with him, please him, as he never had before. Hephaestion obediently collapsed back onto the bed and Alexander continued to work his fingers up and down his warmth. He then lifted Hephaestion's legs at the knees and positioned his own head between his tanned thighs. Sinfully he flicked his tongue out, only slightly connecting with Hephaestion's tip, and then blew warm air against him. Before Hephaestion could sit up Alexander forced him possessively back down, then continue to lick him, starting where he'd already begun and ending at Hephaestion's thigh. Just before Hephaestion was going to utter a plea Alexander slid his mouth over him, causing Hephaestion's hips to instinctively jerk back into the bed. He heard Hephaestion cry out, yearning to have been touched like this so long ago, and Alexander then moved slower up and down him, his tongue repeating the moves his fingers had. Hephaestion reached down and wrapped a hand in his golden hair as his back arched uncontrollably. Carefully Alexander placed his hands upon Hephaestion's hips and forced him back down, even though the writhing meant he was doing things right.

"Alexander," Hephaestion whimpered, panting heavily. Alexander did not answer, made no suggestion that he had even heard him, and again he uttered his name. Again Alexander forced him back as he tried to sit up, and his left leg gave way. Alexander's hands ran up and down his thighs, bringing even more warmth to him. Had there been snow it would have melted. He tried to hold back another cry as Alexander's teeth grazed his soft skin, but this time could not stop himself from loudly whimpering. He felt himself coming closer and closer to a point of completion, and his grip on Alexander's hair lessened. There was a senseless wringing in his ears, but just before he found his release Alexander's mouth left him, and everything stopped for a moment. Hephaestion let Alexander pull him up, turning him in the process, and then his back was to Alexander's chest. Chest heaving he tried to say something, anything, but could not find the words. Alexander slid a hand between their hips, guiding himself into Hephaestion, and then remained motionless. Hephaestion almost collapsed when Alexander finally thrust completely inside of him, and found himself grabbing the bedpost with a hand. The other he used to place against Alexander's neck as he brought his arm up. Alexander stopped once more and kissed the crook of Hephaestion's neck. The expectation burned deep within his loins, but once again it was not about him. He wanted this night to be Hephaestion's.

Slowly he began to rock against Hephaestion's hips, causing Hephaestion to let out another gasp of air, and with a hand reached around to once again find Hephaestion. He knew Hephaestion all to well, and each time he touched him he knew what he felt. As he rocked against him he heard Hephaestion's voice crack as he tried to say something. He knew what Hephaestion wanted, he wanted a release, but Alexander was not ready to give it to him. He continued to slowly rock himself against Hephaestion, each time gently pressing his fingers into Hephaestion's needing flesh. Then, knowing exactly what would excite Hephaestion, he began a quicker motion. He knew the pain that he caused Hephaestion, not yet bringing him all the way, for each time Hephaestion's body tightened he would stop. Each time he did Hephaestion bit his lip, tried to speak, but as his body relaxed Alexander would move them once more. Finally he thrust himself once more against Hephaestion, and whilst doing so touched Hephaestion in such a way that he found the release he'd been waiting for. Hephaestion's body fell forward, to where it then rest against the wall, and he shook in perfect orgasm for a moment. Alexander reached up, pulling Hephaestion's hair to one side of his neck, and continued kissing his shoulder. He listened as Hephaestion drew in short breaths, which were cut off with soft pants as he tried to breathe. Alexander pulled away from him, but only so that he could wrap his arms around him and bring him back down to the bed.

"Alexander," Hephaestion gasped, taking three breaths to get his name out. He would have said more, but Alexander placed his mouth against his, silencing him in a sweet kiss. As he pulled away he pushed an errant strand of sweat slicked hair away from Hephaestion's forehead. Hephaestion turned his head, resting it against the furs beneath him, and let out another quick breath. Alexander said nothing, merely positioned himself so that Hephaestion could rest his head against his chest, which Hephaestion gladly did.

"My plan to seduce you…worked," Hephaestion whispered jokingly as his eyelids began to feel heavy. Alexander continued to trace each line of his face as he stared down at him.

"You seduced me years ago," Alexander replied. Nothing else was said for some time, and Hephaestion eventually closed his eyes. Alexander continued to stare at him as he gently ran his fingers over his jaw, watching him as if there never again would be a moment like this, even though he planned to hold Hephaestion like this for the rest of his night. Outside the stars shone their brightest and Alexander whispered then something even better than proclaiming love. "Hephaestion, are you awake?"

"No," Hephaestion murmured quietly, a smile still creeping over his lips as he said it. Alexander smiled as well. He was not a king here, but rather a lover. He was not old, but rather young. Here he was no one's disappointment, no one's murderer.

"Marry me."

"You're absurd," Hephaestion replied, laughing slightly in his half-sleep.

"I mean it," Alexander told him, keeping his voice quiet.

"I'm already yours," Hephaestion said, reaching up and placing his hand over Alexander's. The ring he'd given to him on his wedding night to Roxanne was still safely upon his finger.

"No, I must do something for you Hephaestion. You've saved me from myself so many times, and look how I have repaid you…"

"Alexander," Hephaestion interrupted. "Do you want to know what would repay me?"

"Hmm?"

"Just hold me," he answered. Alexander did just that. He held Hephaestion until the sun rose, and continued to hold him until Hephaestion woke. When he did he pressed a soft kiss against his forehead. Never again would he leave him.

ENFIN

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A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers, especially these reviewers who have been with me from the first chapter on:

VaniaHepskins

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Sovereign of Silence3

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A Horse Called Hwin

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